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Foundlings

 

In a land lost in silence I recall


    the weak and poor creatures safe in my hat.


My idealistic heart, like yours, was pleased 


    to be crawling for crumbs to feed them.


Where do such abandoned poems point us


    when at the last line we all fly from here...

◄ Polyester Fluorescent Workwear?

Bedtime Of Doom ►

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